Monologues for Women | "Quiche isn't Sexy" by Gabriel Davis

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Quiche isn't SexyComedic monologues for women from the play Quiche Isn't Sexy by Gabriel Davis

Quiche isn't Sexy. I think people who eat Quiche are pretentious. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate you made it. I just think Quiche is pretentious. Quiche is just an egg trying to be more than breakfast.

Its sweet that you had me over, tried to prepare me dinner. But this is a pretense of dinner. Isn’t it?

​This is basically an omelet disguising itself as a savory pie. It’s the perky beginning to one’s day when it should be the lusty end.

When you think eggs … do you think romance? You could have made … a rack of lamb, rare and wonderful … at first we’d take our knives and cut off little pieces. Small bits of juicy meat combined with the perfect combination of spices, rosemary and salt and … small bites would turn to large bites and soon we’d have the lamb bones in our hands and we’d be devouring them. After, we’d devour each other.

No, I don’t mean literally … I mean sexually. You’d devour me sexually. I’d devour you sexually.Yes, now that I’m saying it out loud, it does sound strange, but it wouldn’t feel strange. I’d like to be devoured by a man who cooks wonderful lamb.

You look … uncomfortable … Delicious food should be devoured. Great sex should be delicious and impossible not to devour … you can’t help yourself. You feel … almost starved as you first approach each other. You try to start slow but a speed, a … something drives you to go faster and faster to … rip the meat from the bones, and you don’t care if you get covered in juices and flesh because you’re … well, you’re not eating a Quiche.

A Quiche is eaten in tiny, dainty bites. Do you want to take me in tiny, dainty bites? Do you want me to take you in tiny dainty bites? One does not devour a Quiche. And by serving me a Quiche, you are telling me something.

And that’s why, as sweet as this gesture is … I have to tell you. It’s not romantic … it’s the pretense of romantic. It’s two children kissing on the lips and exchanging promise rings. You know … an egg is basically immature chicken. We haven’t hatched, you see. We’ve tried. We’ve gone through the motions. We’ve rubbed the sticks together but there … there is no fire. It really does look good on the plate though.

But let’s face it. Neither you, nor I are interested in what you’ve put on the menu. Ok then. Well …Goodnight.